


Tales Of A Prince

by ASoulFromFarFarAway



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 'cuz I can't figure out how to put it here, -Ish, Always, Blood, Both on ao3 and in this fandome, Crossposted on Amino, First work - Freeform, Go to my Amino for artwork, Honor, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'll have some uhhh ANGST, I'm Bad At Tagging, King!Roman- Freeform, M/M, Medieval, Murder, Please Kill Me, Poisoning, Prince!Roman, Royalty, Sorry Not Sorry, add more tags as I go, i can't tag, kingdom - Freeform, no beta we die like men, not really - Freeform, sorry - Freeform, sue me, the empire has fallen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASoulFromFarFarAway/pseuds/ASoulFromFarFarAway
Summary: So, This is bacically just a list of drabbels focusing on Roman. He's my favorite, thus he must suffer. I'm a slut for Princxiety. Some of them are inspired by prompts, others are ones I came up with myself. Uhhhh, that's just about it. Crossposted on my Amino.





	1. Chapter 1

**List of all drabbeles up 'till now:**

1\. "Don't go where I can't follow"


	2. "Don't go where I can't follow"

The thuds of shoes hitting the stone floor of the castel resounded. Frantic beats, hurring. 

The culprit had left, Logan and Patton attempting to follow. They had initially discovered the problem when they had come to invite Roman over for a, as Patton called it, “bonding moment”. But when glass had lay shattered, guards murdered, they knew something was wrong. 

Patton and Logan, as previously mentioned had followed the footprints leading away, into the dept of the forest.

Virgil himself had immediately started sprinting through the halls. He had to know if Princey was okay. What if he wasn't? What if he was hurt? Or- he cut himself off with a growling noise.

Then he heard it. A ragged, heaving cough. Turning down the hall in the direction the sound had come from, he picked up his pace even more if possible. Rounding one last conor and- Oh god… No… Virgil stumbled to a halt at the sight in front of him.

Normally well kept hair tangled, perfect skin torn open and bruised in a shurrade of black, blue, purple and red. White cloth stained crimson. Mocha eyes dully blinking back at him. Wait- 

Virgil snapped forward, falling to his knees by Roman in an instant. Those damned eyes following him. He wanted them to go away. Those eyes were dull, weak, and didn't that just hurt? Romans eyes were supposed to spark with life, with ideas, with arrogance… With care.

The impersonation of anxiety felt tears brim in his eyes. 

Pale hands carefully snaked around the body. One arm hooking around Roman’s back, the other one holding the back of his neck in an attempt to allow a clear airway. He moved his knees to support the lower back of the prince. 

A voice startled him. “Hey.” It was weak and low, spoken through pain, but it was there. “H-hey” He replied shaky. Roman smiled softly. 

And then the peace, the soft hope that things were not as bad as they looked, broke as a hacking cough rattled in the creativity reincarnation’s chest. Blood bubbled in his throat and Virgil nearly panicked, changing their position in an attempt to help.

Roman’s eyes opened slowly from their tightly scrunched up position. 

“Hu-hurts” 

And then the dam broke and tears freely fell from Virgil’s eyes like they had never done before. He heaved a sob. If only Patton or even Logan had been there. They would know how to react, how to help. He knew nothing.

A rapidly cooling hand touching his cheek startled him out of it before the spiral began. Looking down, his own chestnut eyes met Roman’s. The latter of the two smiled up. In pain, but still smiling. “‘S okay… I have… Have you, r-right?” He asked tentatively.

Virgil touched his forehead to the others, mindful of the cruel, dark bruise covering up a good 20% of Romans face. “Yeah, you have me. I'll be here ‘till it's ov- ‘Till you don't want me here,” he corrected himself. He may not know much about comforting, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try.

Pulling away, he took a moment to finally look at the dying boy in his arms. Slashes and cuts covered him cruelly, blacked marks forming all over. But that wasn't the worst. It want even the large head wound. It was the gigantic hole in Roman’s stomach, bleeding so insanely fast.

“Vir… Virgil?” The voice was even quieter now.

Said boy looked down. “What's… What's up buddy?” The sentence felt odd and bitter on his tongue, but he ignored it. 

“‘M cold” 

To that, the only thing the breaking boy could do was hold him closer, desperate to share at least a little body heat. The oversized hoodie he wore hopefully helped. 

Not thinking about his actions, he leaned down, planting calloused, cracking lips on perfect lips. A part of his mind rationalized that it was a method to keep the other awake. Surprising him. But the larger part of Virgil knew. Knew he loved this dying man. The kiss itself was bittersweet. Filled with despair, passion, pain and desperation, mingling sourly with the taste of iron and copper.

It was bizzarely perfect.

But the moment didn't last, for the lips below him grew tired, sluggish. Like the person they belonged to. Virgil pulled away when the hand, still on his cheek, fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Long, elegant lashes kissed a bruised, bloodied cheek as mocha eyes slipped closed, and god no, this wasn't what he meant when he said he wanted them to go away. 

More blood bubbled from the princes lips, joined by a trickle of blood from his nose. Whether it was because of the large slash crossing it or internal damage, Virgil didn't have the time to ponder. 

“Roman?” He asked hesitantly. 

But alas, the pulse he felt with the hand pressed to the creative mind below him grew weaker by the second. 

An anger seeped in his bones. How dare he? How dare he leave when the possibility of a perfect future was finally within reach. “Roman you absolute asshole!” He yelled.

_The weak beat was growing weaker…_

Then, the reality of the situation settled in, and a stream of tears, larger than any Virgil had ever felt ran down his face. Unshed tears glinted like crystals in the corners of Romans eyes. Perfect, like everything else about him.

In a quiet, pleading, breaking voice, a begging whisper left him.

“Don't go where I can't follow.”

_The beat grew still._

Footsteps echoed the hall as logic and morality stormed down the hallway, knowing the culprit, not the crime.

They both stopped dead in their tracks at the sound that pierced the air…

Virgil screamed as the only beat he heard was the one of his own breaking heart.


	3. I'll Die With My Kingdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again. Moi. Well, there was no prompt for this one, so sue me. I came up with it yesterday morning. For some reason, I only wanna write after 22:00 has come and gone, so yeah. Also, merry christmas, I guess. Uhhhhhhhhh- YEET

When they first got the news, they were horrified and confused. A walk through the village their romantic friend had under his rule turned dark way to fast. It started with a whisper. A pale woman to a fat man.

“The prince will fall tonight” she had smirked, and the man had grinned. “About time. His very blood is permanently tainted.” 

The group stopped abruptly. Logan was the first one to open his mouth. “What do you mean by that?” he asked for all three of them. The two looked up. 

The woman grinned. “You must be foreigners. How interesting~” she purred, striding closer, hips swaying. “That crocodilian prince was tainted from birth. His great grandfather was a homicidal maniac, yet his family has persisted with a new generation every time. But now…” she giggled cruelly, “Now, he can finally bite the dust, even if that means destroying entire Willidarya.” She smirked, all of sudden all up in their faces. 

Cold sweat rolled down their backs, and they shared a concerned look. “Bianca, leave the strangers alone,” the man called to her. She turned and left with the man, blowing a kiss over her shoulder. 

Collectively, they all started heading for the castle, not able to ignore the whispers in every nook and alley. The entire village bustled with hate and a lust for vengeance. 

//In the chastel//

Five small drops of a transparent pink-ish color dripped from a vial in delicate hands, making little to no noise as they hit the well smelling tea in the reddish cup. The maiden grabbed it, walking to where the prince of the Willidarya Kingdom sat on a cushioned chair, starring thoughtful out the window.

She hummed, setting the cup on the table by him. A welldone, yet fake smile stretched her lips. “Is there something bothering you, M’Lord?” she asked, voice sweet and thick like honey, dripping from her tongue. 

The prince made a dragged out humming sound in the back of his throat, brows furrowing further. “I have that feeling. You know, the one that something is wrong,” he answered after a little while. She twirled her copper curls innocently around her pinky. “You may have forgotten something,” she supplied. 

He nodded, turning from the window. “You're properly right Inniferna.”

His hands grabbed the cup, bringing it to his lips. He drank a good third of it in one go, welcoming the burning sensation on the back of his tongue. His mocha eyes strayed to the glass once more. “But still…” he mumbled, mainly for himself to hear.

Time passed like that. Lots of time. He'd finished the cup of tea, then asked Inniferna to leave the room, missing her snarky smirk as she turned. He felt tired even though it was barely noon. Perhaps he hadn't gotten enough sleep? He contemplated going out for a walk, perhaps even go to see his friends, -not to mention the guy he totally did NOT have a huge church on, the size of Nevermore Oak-- but he found himself reading instead.

He read till around 1:30 PM, when suddenly, frantic steps in three pairs sounded in the hall, followed by the door smashing open. There, in the doorway stood his three best friends -which included his totally not-crush. The genius, the ray of sunshine himself and the stormcloud of a lovable person. 

The first thing Roman noted was that they looked distressed. He closed his book and stood up, the motion dizzying for some reason. “Is something the matter?” He asked, hoping he could be of help. 

Logan opened his mouth to explain the situation, but Patton beat him to it. “They're planning to kill you!” he blurted out, not seeming to notice how blunt it was. Logans mouth shut with an audible click. Then reopened, “He's right. Though I would have said it differently. We heard every living being talk about it in the streets.” He explained, calm voice not quite covering his worry.

Virgil remained quiet. He expected the prince to be distress, troubled, worried, sad. Anything but what happened. 

A small smile stretched Romans lips, a dry chuckle leaving him. “Of course…” he murmured. Then looked up again, looking so… So acceptant. It made goosebumps rise all over Virgil’s skin. Then, louder, Roman sighed. “I knew this day would come at some point.”

This shocked them all, Patton reacting by spitting nonsense and questions, Logan starring, his jaw dropping comedically. Finally, there was Virgil. He felt anger and pain. How dared Roman be so accepting that his own people wanted to murder him?

Roman held his hands up, chuckling nervously. “I owe you an… Explanation, I guess.”

“You're damn right you do!” Patton squeakd. This was serious, because Patton didn't do cursing

Logan looked around, something akin to nervousness in his eyes. “I don't think now is the right time to tell stories Roman,” he stated quickly.

“Nothing will happen before tonight.” Roman assured them all.

So, they sat in the chairs. “Ask away,” the creative royalty in front of them smiled. 

Patton was basically vibrating with questions by now, so naturally, he was the first to open his mouth. “Why would they want you gone? You're a good ruler!” the sunshine boy squeaked.

Roman sighed heavily, mocha eyes flickering between all of them, lingering on Virgil for a little longer than the others. “It doesn't have anything to do with me as a person. It's my bloodline. By now, you've probably already heard the term ‘Tainted blood’,” they nodded, “and that refers to how my family, the Dukes have had a bad rumor for the past three generations. My great grandfather killed may in a show of bloodlust rarely seen. My grandfather though he saw the dead and my father spoke to himself and told gruesome tales. It's known as the ‘Curse Of The Dukes’ and I show signs of it as well.” He told them. It was scary honestly.

Virgil was quick to follow up. “Signs of what?” He asked, looking over Roman as if he could see it physically. 

“The curse. I have a livid fantasy, we all know-” the others nodded. It was no secret that Roman was filled with ideas. “--Well, speaking of fiction quickly got taken ill upon. I wasn't meant to have a fantasy like that. That's what the people believe after all.” He smiled, looking oddly tired. Huh.

Logan cleared his throat. They all turned to him. “If you knew of this, why in the seven realms did you stay in Willidarya all this time. Why are you still here?” He had asked the question that burned within all of them.

Roman smiled solemnly out the window. “Because this is my kingdom,” he answered, voice far away. Three jaws collectively dropped. No way that was the reason. No fucking way. “How is that a respectable answer?!” Logan bit back.

Roman turned to them. “My bloodline is the oldest one here. My family created this kingdom, breathed this kingdom, lived this kingdom. It shall drag it's final breath here as well.” The tone of the princes voice was more serious than anything either of them had ever heard.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, Virgil spoke up. “  
So, I've been wondering for some time… Since your dad is gone…” He took a deep breath. “Why are you not… Why aren't you king?” He finally finished. That was a good question, wasn't it. Roman looked to his left and the rest followed his gaze. All were now staring at the late king’s and queen’s memorial. “My dad’s body was never found. I didn't want the title until I knew he was really gone. I'm sure of it now… After all, it has been four years.” The prince sighed.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around him. Shocked at the stormcloud impersonation hugging him, it took Roman a while to return the hug. The other two broke out of their trance, both looking sadly at the two. Both knew what the others feelings for each other were. It must've been hard on Virgil, to hear that his crush was so ready, so prepared for his own demise.

Roman squeezed Virgil just a little tighter, then let go. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulders, pushing him off.

“You should leave.”

That started an uproar of arguments. Though when he lifted a hand, it quieted. “I don't want any of you in harms way,” he told them, voice filled with care. As if on cue, the smell of smoke hit their nostrils, and when they turned to look out, everyone's stomachs plummeted down to the catacombs beneath the castle. 

Fire.

Huge, roaring flames, almost reaching up to the second floor they were currently on. The angry roar of people blended in with the crackling of the burning wood and plant matter they had sat ablaze. They faint outline of people, carrying pitchforks and spades, torches and even real weapons as blades, axes and spears.

They all stood simultaneously, three of them making their way to the door, the last running to the memorial, much to the displeasure of his friends. “Roman, what the hell are you doing?!” 

“Go ahead, I'll catch up,” he called back. “Promise it,” Virgil barked. Roman smiled softly at him, placing his father's crown on his head and moving towards the balcony. As he grabbed the handels, he whispered out; “I promise.” 

That was as good as they were gonna get, so they made a break for one of the back ways, toward Nevermore Oak. 

They stopped when they'd reached the start of the path to wait up for the prince. Virgil hunched in on himself more and more every second. Every second, Patton’s pacing grew more frantic and every single second, Logan’s mind was losing hope of creating a good plan.

A hole five minutes passed before, clad in white, Roman stumbled out the hall, feet hitting the ground uncharacteristically clumsily. He seemed to be coughing pretty violently, but that wasn't too odd, because he was followed by a cloud of smoke. Like a hunter smoking a fox out of its den. 

They all ran to meet him halfway. Virgil was the first one to reach him, pulling the prodigy's arm around his own neck and grabbing it with one hand, the other one supporting him by the waist. Ant other day, he'd be dying of embarrassment, but not today. 

Patton was next, patting his back to try and help clear out the youngers airway. Logan came last, grabbing Roman’s other arm and mimicking Virgil. 

The odd thing was, Roman, who was always elegant and strong, even when hurt, sagged in their hold. Like he was tired or exhausted. The coughing had dulled down, but hadn't stopped entirely. His normally rich, warm, naturally tanned skin had paled to a sickly, pale ivory. His eyes had dulled and become milky in a way. Every step he took seemed like it took all his strength to complete.

Slowly, slower than any of them would have liked, they moved towards the gigantic oak. If Roman wished to stay in his kingdom, they sure as hell would allow him that. Smoke filled the sky above them, the remisiant burning their eyes. That, and the rattling breaths of their friend brought tears to their eyes.

When the valley holding the large tree appeared, the sky had gone dark as the sun had set. Logan and Virgil were practically dragging Roman at this point, the prince not having the energy to keep moving on his own. Everyone's minds were racing. ‘A little smoke shouldn't have this large of an impact, right?’

The crown, so unfamiliar and large on Roman, yet suiting, was slowly slipping off, so Patton gently took it, to make sure it didn't hit the ground. 

They descended the slope carefully. White flowers seemed to glow as the moon caught their petals, meanwhile dark red roses faded away, waiting for the two to switch roles. Up ahead, a gigantic tree stretched into the sky, a looming, towering shadow. Unnatural, yet beautifl blue shaded leaves resulted in a breeze higher up. Behind the group, in the distance, the flames and smoke of the burning village and castle was visible on the sky, above the treeline. Smoke darkening the night sky further. Like ink in water.

Near a gigantic, haggard root sticking out of the ground, overgrown by time created a cove, covered well by overhang. They sought to it like moths to a lamp. Something about being underneath a tree nearly a mile tall and with a core radius of almost forty meters at the base created a deep sense of safety.

Patton moved the overhang as the others entered. Bioluminescent moss and flowers lit up the cove in a soft, blue light. 

Logan moved aside, going over to Patton in the other end of the around five by seven meters grassy cave. The two sat down, discussing the current situation worriedly. Meanwhile, Virgil let himself sink to the ground with Roman, changing up their position so that he himself had his back leaned on the mossy cove walls, with Roman’s head cushioned in his lap. 

“You'll be fine” he mumbled to the prince, fingers carding through dyed, slightly reddish radiant orchid hair. It was silky, yet still abundant. God damn, why hadn't he done this before? “It's gonna be okay,” he lied. 

Murkey mocha eyes looked up at him, a small smile stretching on Roman’s lips. “What’re you smiling for Princey?” Virgil huffed back, trying desperately to lighten the mood. The raspy breathing of Roman hacked all of a sudden and it took Virgil a moment to realize that the other was chuckling. “How'd I m-miss that you… Have re-really nice… Really n-nice eyes…” 

Virgil’s face lit up in a million shades of red. No, the other was simply delusional. He couldn't possibly feel the same.

“Shut up Roman. Focus on getting better, okay?”

Roman hummed in half hearted acknowledgement. Suddenly, his eyes snapped wide open, and he seemed to gag. Patton and Logan stood, quickly making their way over and crouching down next to the others. Virgil adjusted Roman in an attempt to help. Violent coughs ripped themselves out from the latters throat. 

Red specks dotted his chin and white cloth. that was the final straw. Panic was the only thing the others could feel. After some time, the coughing fit seemed to clear off. For some time, everyone were just trying to comfort their friend. That was, until Logan pulled Patton out the cove to discuss -as quick as possible-- how they could help, how bad the situation was and what they would do if- if something went wrong.

Inside the cove, Virgil held Roman tight, scared that if he let go, the other wouldn't make it. He placed a soft kiss on the others temple. “I love you Roman, don't go… Not yet,” he pleaded. Roman smiled. “I love you too Virgil Ainsworth,” was the reply. Weak and forced. Virgil smiled down at him, tears brimming his eyes. “Smile Verge… C-crying doe-sn't suit you.” Roman smiled, strained. 

Virgil made a mental promise to stay strong from that day forward. To not cry. But today was a cheat day, his mind decided as the first, warm tear trailed down his cheek. “Does it hurt?” He asked shakily. He had to know.

Roman shook his head, a meek movement. And even though his eyes mirrored the pain that felt like fire licking his lunges, he answered; “No, don't worry.”

Even though Virgil knew the other was lying, he just nodded his head, grasping at the lie with every part of his being. A violent shudder racked up Roman’s back, and a few barking coughs brough more metallic red. A thin trickle ran from the others nose. He shook once more, then went still.

Very still.

“Roman?” Virgil shook the other. No response. “Roman?” He shook a little harder. Nothing. “Ro-” Virgil’s voice broke as he buried his face in Roman’s chest, crying his eyes out, soft sobs raking his shoulders. 

When Logan and Patton went back in, they were greeted by that heartbreaking scene. But there was something poetic about it too. A stormcloud crying over a withered rose. They cried with Virgil till the sun rose in the horizon once more.

At some point, Logan and Patton had left to dig a grave there, beneath the great Nevermore Oak. They had told Virgil that the time had come. Virgil had pulled off his hoodie to cushing Roman’s head on in the hole. Patton had placed the last king’s crown on the head of the last Duke, where it belonged. 

They had lined his entire figure with flowers of gold, white and red, a small bouquet of black hollyhocks in his hands. When asked why patton had placed them, the moral guy had beautifully recited that hollyhocks were associated with a majestic orientation due to its superior floral presentation and impressive ability to flourish in several conflicting soil grades. And that they were tied to ambition because of the overall strength of the plant to grow in an array of conditions and its powerful presence in landscaping scenery. They also symbolised softness, fearless love and trust. The colors were to hint at Virgil, the near-black but truly deep purple, red tinted blossoms supposedly reflecting Virgil himself.

To say some tears were shed would be an understatement.

“Goodnight, my king” Virgil had told Roman as the hole was covered up. It was decided that a bush of Black Prince roses were to be planted on top, surrounded by a wild-garten, instead of a tombstone.

To this day, Roman stays within his kingdom, covered by a beautiful, bustling garten, terraformed over time by his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sue me, or the parents that raised me  
> /¨¨I got the last name ideas from a dream. Those will be the ones I'll permanently use from now on forward. They are as following; Roman Evermore Duke, Virgil Ainsworth, Logan Newton, Patton Henry Dove and Damian “Deceit” Elkton¨¨\  
> For anyone confused, the poison Inniferna put in Romans tea is made up. On its own, it's not really all that harmful. Then it's basically just really slow working sleeping pills. But it's triggered by certain things. Smoke as an example. After it's been “activated”, it's really deadly, targeting the lungs and basically just kinda, rotting them really fast, I guess.  
> Kudos if you realized that Inniferna was me twisting the work ‘inferno’ as a foreshadowing to the fire.  
> And yes, this was much, much longer than anticipated  
> Have a nice christmas or yule or whatever.


End file.
